Absolution
by decuvieri
Summary: Roy tried to start a new life after Garth's passing, but it didn't quite work. Maybe closure can still be found at the sea. Fourth installment and conclusion of the Disquietude Arc.


**Category:** Teen Titans  
**Warnings:** Language, Slash content  
**Genre:** Drama  
**Summary:** Roy tried to start a new life after Garth's passing, but it didn't quite work. Maybe closure can still be found at the sea.

Absolution

Thick, black letters crowded the top of the page, smashing the following columns into tiny, narrow paragraphs:

**CONVICTED MURDERER OF TEEN TITAN ESCAPES PENITENTARY**.

The reader skimmed down to the actual information, rereading the page for the umpteenth time since the edition had been printed. The concise sentences and careful vocabulary still brought up the same stunned, horrified emotion they had evoked during the initial reading.

_The most infamous inmate of Steel City Correctional Center escaped around midnight on Thursday, triggering the largest manhunt in the history of Saint Harvey county.  
__It hasn't been discovered exactly how the spirit summoner known as "The Medium" was able to break free from his cell in the North Wing, but authorities suspect that he had inside assistance.  
__"The North Wing of the prison is reserved for inmates that pose the greatest threat to our society," Bernard Shaefer, coordinator of the Penitentiary was quoted this morning, "It is virtually impossible to break out of this high security corridor without attention being brought to oneself. At this time we are interviewing all staff and have put the facility on lock down…"_

The reader skipped past that load of bullshit, finding where the column writer picked up again.

_The Medium was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole for the murder of Teen Titans East member Aqualad in the summer of 2018. He was placed in the highest security complex the city had to offer, enclosed in a single occupant cell with no recreation time or visitation privileges. Despite this many residents of Steel City who looked to the Titans East for protection feel he was given too light a sentence with an overwhelming statistic stating that an average of seventy-four percent of polltakers would have opted for the death penalty.  
__Aqualad, a founding member of Teen Titans East, was one of the five superhero adolescents responsible for bringing down another of the North Wing's permanent residents, the H.I.V.E. Headmaster Brother Blood. The hero's place of origin was the undersea city of Poseidonis, capital of a province within the Royal Empire of Atlantis, but his legacy is in fighting crime of continental land. Through his encounters with villainy Aqualad faced off with The Medium during a bank heist, resulting in a sort of demonic possession that destroyed the Atlantean's essence. Aqualad was nineteen years old at the time of his death.  
__The Medium's escape from prison occurred only a few days short of what will be the seven year anniversary of Aqualad's passing. Though psychological review would seem to indicate he felt remorse for his actions, The Medium has never openly apologized for the murder. Doctor Katherine St.Gallon, a professor at the Graves Academe of Psychological Study, theorizes…_

Roy folded the paper carefully and set it aside. He had already gone through their ideas and guesses and theories, but they all led to one common sense conclusion: The Medium had skipped town and it was going to require some one incredibly persistent tracker to bring him back. That was why he had to go back to Steel. He had to go, if only to make it up for not being able to help Garth the first time.

The archer known as Arsenal to the public but privately was the orphan Roy Harper Jr. still couldn't shake the rock-bottom feeling that had been lingering within his soul for the past seven years. He had left Steel City dragging his feet, only barely collected enough to try starting over. A new identity. A new neighborhood. A new mindset. Despite it all, Garth still stuck around in his head like the track scars did on his arm. Those two things were permanent.

Like most Steel summers, it wasn't too humid or warm. Roy had found an old boat dock and settled there, letting his feet dangle over the edge. The cloudy green water churned beneath him, lapping at the barnacle clad support beams of the platform with gentle smacking noises and lulling him into a deep trance.

Seven of the longest years in Roy's life had dragged out into this little eternity of blissful hell. The murder of Garth had only been the beginning. Roy had promised his partner… ex 'boyfriend'… that he would stop shooting up. Withdrawal had been a bitch that he couldn't handle alone. He wouldn't get any pity from Green Arrow (who had lovingly thrown him out on the street the first go-around), so he turned to the only other authoritive figure of his past, Black Canary, and underwent an excruciating detox stage under her care.

Once he picked himself up off her bathroom floor Roy had tried to resume his life. Unfortunately, in his attempt to do good and expose the villainess Cheshire while undercover he only screwed up more, falling for the girl and letting her off the hook when the bust was about to be made.

She fled, leaving Roy alone once more. He wasn't sure if he should feel guilty for not missing her as much as he did Garth, but it wasn't like he could change how he felt for whom.

His eyes drifted along the whitecaps, seeing but not really seeing. At least not until something abruptly emerged from the depths with an explosive splash not an arm's length away.

"Holy Jesus!" he shouted in surprise. The dripping figure didn't seem to take this in account.

"You are the one I seek." It was a feminine voice, but was so cool that there was no womanly warmth in it. Once Roy's heart stopped threatening to beat out of his ribcage he took a more careful look at the visitor.

She was no human, or even an Atlantean for that matter. She was floating carefully on the surface, looking like she could vanish at any second. Really, her skin matched the water so well that it wouldn't be hard to believe no mortal would be able to find her swimming about their boat unless she wanted them to.

Roy heard the blood rushing in his ears. "That's nice. Who're you?"

"My name in unimportant and does not translate well to your tongue. All that matters is my purpose, which is to deliver a message to you."

"A message from who?" he asked, drawing his legs back up to the dock and out of reach of the mysterious woman. So far he hadn't been given reason to trust her and wasn't about to start believing in the good of all people.

She retorted sharply, "How would I know? It's an energy in the environment. It is the current in the sea, the voice of the kelp forest, and the song of the crashing waves. You land dwellers do not hear these things, but we do. It is the life cycle of the mer to continuously shed one form and take another."

"So, this energy picked you to come find me?"

"It would seem it has some unfinished business to tend to from a past life stage. Obviously this involves you because you are human and do not understand life and death as we do."

Roy had to grit his teeth. Tolerance of other people's attitudes was not something he was known for. "And why does it involve _you_?"

"There are few among my kind that are willing to venture to the surface as I, and fewer that can speak your language fluently."

"Ah, I imagine your social eloquence had something to do with this mysterious force choosing you," he muttered sarcastically.

"I know not the nature or origin of the essence that calls to me nor the reasons that motivate it. All I know," the merwoman growled impatiently, "is that this ethereal body wants you to hear something, and since it likely isn't going to give me a moment of peace I have come to your realm to deliver the message. Whether or not you want to hear it is inconsequential."

Though the sea woman was viewable only from the shoulders up, Roy evaluated her carefully. Her foamy green skin glistened in the dusk, occasionally broken by tendrils of dark, gnarled hair. She definitely wouldn't have blended into the city crowd if she had tried.

"I'm listening."

"He - I presume this energy was a 'he' when you knew it - wants to tell you to move on already." She sounded exasperated, and Roy had to wonder if Garth had been prodding at this creature to deliver his message for quite some time. "Stop staring at the ocean: it's not going to make difference. You can't let this continually hold you back. Now, go on and live your life already. You terrestrials have such little time as it is."

With that the creature seemed ready to take her leave. The humanoid turned and her bust began to sink beneath the surface once more. Roy stopped her before he could think.

"Wait!" She headed this and turned back to him. "Is that… Is that everything he says? That's all?"

She sighed, muttered something in a foreign language under her breath, then rolled her eyes. "It says you need to heed the words it spoke to you before. I suppose this may mean something to you, but I care not. Farewell, manling."

Roy didn't watch as she sank away, becoming a shapeless void in the water that quickly dissipated to nothing at all. Actually, the experience had been so surreal that Roy had to question whether or not it had happened at all. Delusions were a concept he had become very familiar with during detox.

But no. Something about all that… Not the weirdness, but the familiarity in the emotion. If Garth were sitting next to him on the dock those would have been his exact words.

It wasn't something that could be explained logically, but Roy felt his first love there. Maybe the bitchy sea lady was right: maybe Garth was all around him, but he was just catching on to all of it. It was kind of hard to believe all that because it wasn't a part of his nature, but Garth had always been about connecting. So with nothing to lose Roy just let go of all his practical thought and relaxed.

Was Steel always this quiet? When Titans East had first settled there the city was an industrial nightmare, but now at almost 26 years old Roy realized maybe it was just he had always heard the racket and not the good stuff. Finally he understood what Garth was always going on about when they were just two teenagers living in a T-shaped tower. Of course, a lot of things were simpler back then.

Those were the good old days.

_I guess if you can consider being ensnared in power-sucking jewel, being brainwashed, proving ourselves through a geek's test of skills, almost becoming Cyborg look-alikes and being cryogenically frozen in a tube of ice the 'good old days', then sure. Why not?_

The glass was always half empty for you, Garth.

_My glass was adequately full, you jerk. And, yes, I know about the fish filet you had last week._

If it's any consolation, I thought about you the entire time I ate it, Fish Boy.

_Roy… You need to stop that._

Eating fish?

_I wasn't kidding around. You have to get on with your life. I can't let go until _you_ do._

An inexplicable change in the direction of the waves caused a splash, sending a spray of saltwater into Roy's face. He spat he rancid taste out and wiped his face with his sleeve.

_I'm proud of what you've become, Roy._

The archer sighed heavily, unsure if this was all really happening or if he was unconsciously reincarnating Garth in his head. No matter what the answer was it made him feel oddly relieved, much in the way Garth used to make him feel. Why argue the authenticity? If it was a figment of his imagination would he really want to know? Of course not.

That helps. Anything else you wanna say before I bail on out of here? I've got your killer to hunt down, and all…

No response for a few moments, then: _Yeah. You _really_ couldn't come up with a better alias than 'Arsenal'?_

Roy laughed out loud. Had anybody been around to see they would have thought the strange redhead guy was cracking up, but he wouldn't have cared, anyway. The last time he ever spoke to Garth was with his own voice, not some spiritual-imaginary-telepathic communication that he didn't understand the mechanics of.

"You're such a nag, Fish Stick."


End file.
